


You told me that you were ok

by dickgrysvn



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Jack, Hurt/Comfort, Poor Jack Dalton (Macgyver 2016), Sorry Not Sorry, Whump, i’m a monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 22:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickgrysvn/pseuds/dickgrysvn
Summary: “You told me that you were ok! You promised!”—————Jack clamps a hand over the wound in his side, not caring that he screams now, because who’s around to hear him anyway? He thinks maybe he should try to get up, try to get to Mac, but his brain is too slow and his body won’t move. He leans his head back against the wall and tries to breathe through the pain. Blackness creeps into his vision and he fights it as hard as he can. He tries to think of Mac, of the scared look on his face when Jack caught his eye the last time, but the pull of sleep is too strong. His head rolls forward and he slips into darkness, soot-stained blond hair and tear-filled blue eyes the last things he sees.





	You told me that you were ok

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever finished and posted Macgyver piece, and I’m really excited! I had no plans for it to be this long or this angsty but hey, here we are. It’s all Jack’s pov because it fit the prompt best. Enjoy! I made myself cry writing it.
> 
> feel free to check me out on tumblr, same name!

Jack blinks hard in the smoke around them, reassuring himself that he can still see Mac’s running form ahead of him. He chances a quick glance behind him as he runs, checking to make sure they’re in the clear– which turns out to be a very bad call. There’s a loud yell, and he’s effectively blindsided by a man that suddenly lunges at him from a door to his right. Jack’s slammed into the wall faster than he can even think, and he grunts in pain as he feels at least one rib crack. For a second, the only thing Jack’s able to think is, _what the heck does this guy eat??_ He’s absolutely monstrous, and Jack struggles to regain his footing just in time to duck a massive fist aimed for his head. The plaster cracks and crumbles right where his head was a second before, and in Jack’s pain-and-smoke-addled state, he’s reminded of something out of a cartoon. He can’t help but giggle hysterically. 

“Whoah man, what’d that wall ever do to you, huh?” He’s rewarded for his humor by another giant fist to his already injured ribs, and suddenly he’s wishing for a breath of even the smog-filled air around him. Jack wheezes desperately, trying to coax clean air into his winded lungs, but there’s just too much damn _smoke_. He can hear Mac calling his name urgently, and he sees him coming to help. He’s aware of Mac coughing hoarsely as he tries to fight the guy off of Jack, the kid already having been exposed to the smoke much longer than Jack, and it hurts Jack like it’s his own pain. _He needs to get out of here now or he’s not gonna make it,_ he thinks numbly. He sloppily tries to wave the kid away as he shoves himself painfully off the wall. He dodges another punch, lands a couple of his own that seem to hurt his own fist more than this monster he’s fighting, all while yelling for Mac to leave. 

“Jack, I’m not leaving you here!” The kid’s voice is hoarse and raw and _wrecked_ , and the sound of it nearly pains Jack more than the punches this guy is landing. He opens his mouth to answer, to try and force Mac to get the hell out of this fire, only to cut himself off with a strangled grunt instead. The giant lands a blow to the left side of Jack’s stomach in his moment of distraction and it temporarily blinds him to everything but searing pain. He faintly hears Mac scream his name, but mostly he’s confused. _That… that doesn’t feel the same as the last few,_ Jack thinks blankly. He stumbles again, and something catches his eye for a split second. _Oh. That makes sense, I guess._ Jack knows his brain isn’t making coherent thoughts, but now he’s got other things on his mind like getting Mac to safety. The dumb genius is next to him now, just barely dodging a punch from the guy that’s almost twice his size. And Jack knows his kid is too weak from smoke inhalation to last long against him. He throws himself forward despite the pain, getting in between him and Andre the Giant and all but shoving Mac back down the hall. 

“Go, Mac! I’m okay, just go! The whole building’s goin’ up, you gotta get out! I’ll be right behind you, I promise!” But even as Jack says those words, as much as he means it, he knows it’s a lie. Through the heat and flames and smoke, Mac can’t see the knife clutched in the big goon’s grip, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Jack knows it’s there because he caught the glint of metal in the orange glow right after it left his gut. Jack knows because he can feel the white-hot pain blazing in his side. Jack knows because even now he can feel the blood soaking through his dark T-shirt. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least _try_ to keep his promise to Mac. But right now, all that matters is making sure he’s safe. 

Jack makes a final decision and closes his eyes for a second to steel himself. _Mac comes first. Always._ He opens his eyes to find Mac’s wide-blown gaze, and he holds it for as long as he dares. He can see the battle raging in those blue eyes, but finally, Mac blinks quickly and nods, and that’s all Jack needs. He turns his attention back to the goon who’s now trying to go after Mac, and he launches himself at him, fists flying. The last thing he sees before they hit the ground is Mac running to safety. Just knowing that his kid is going to be okay is enough to give Jack the extra boost he needs. And then it’s nothing but smoke and fire and punches and blood and pain and somehow Jack gets the knife and then it’s over. It’s over, and Jack crawls away panting and wheezing, dizziness taking over immediately as the adrenaline wears off, and he has just enough time to pull himself into a sitting position against the wall before his energy leaves him completely. Jack clamps a hand over the wound in his side, not caring that he screams now, because who’s around to hear him anyway? He thinks maybe he should try to get up, try to get to Mac, but his brain is too slow and his body won’t move. He leans his head back against the wall and tries to breathe through the pain. Blackness creeps into his vision and he fights it as hard as he can. He tries to think of Mac, of the scared look on his face when Jack caught his eye the last time, but the pull of sleep is too strong. His head rolls forward and he slips into darkness, soot-stained blond hair and tear-filled blue eyes the last things he sees. 

 

—————

 

He’s only been out for about a minute according to his watch, but when Jack slowly wakes up he’s confused, disoriented, and in pain. He blinks away the soot in his eyes and tries to focus on the smoke and flames around him. He groans softly as he shifts his weight and stares grimly down at the blood-covered hand he has pressed against his stomach. For a moment he forgets just how that even happened. _Oh right. I got stabbed. And now I’m sitting against the wall in a building that’s on fire, with a hole in my gut and no way out. Oh. And I lied to Mac._ And by all logic it shouldn’t, damn it, it _shouldn’t,_ but that second thought fills him with more dread than the blood soaking into the floor around him. And honestly, when has logic ever applied to anything about that kid? _I lied to Mac. I lied to my boy so he’d be safe and now I’m bleeding out and he’ll hate me for lying for the rest of his life._ And Jack can’t help it when the tears start falling because Mac thinks he’s ok, that he’s gonna walk out that door any second, because Jack said he was, and he’s going to stand there and expect Jack to come out grinning like a madman, and instead he’s gonna have to stand there and watch this building go up in flames with Jack still stuck inside. And Jack’s not scared of dying, no way, he’s been here before. No, he’s scared— hell, he’s _terrified_ , of leaving the kid, his kid, all alone again. But Mac’s safety has always been his priority. It’s been ingrained in his very DNA since the moment he met that scrawny, insubordinate little punk back in the Sandbox. As much as it pains him to lie to his kid, he knows he’d do it all over again if it meant keeping Mac safe. But it’s the thought of Mac being left alone by yet another person he depends on that makes up Jack’s mind to at least try, even if it kills him. And if he ends up dead either way, he’s going to die attempting to keep his promise to Mac. 

So Jack gathers every ounce of energy he has left, the thought of Mac spurring him on, and forces himself to his feet. An agonized scream tears through his throat as he stands, and he’s infinitely grateful Mac’s not there to see him so weak. He pulls himself up against the wall inch by inch, and when he finally reaches a semblance of an upright position, he pauses. Every breath feels like another knife to his ribs, and his vision is nearly black with dizziness. It takes almost a full minute for the blackness to recede, and even then his breathing still hurts. The smoke stings his lungs and burns his eyes, and he coughs so painfully he nearly slips back to the floor. He keeps his breaths as shallow as he can, and with his hand still clamped painfully against his stomach, he shuffles carefully down the hall. It's slow, agonizing work, but Jack keeps his mind on the scared face of the kid he’s doing this for. He has to make it, for Mac. 

By now the flames have reached most of the hallway around him, and the corridor is so thick with smoke and flames it’s hard to see anything beyond his own hand on the wall. If he squints he thinks he can see a small square of light up ahead, and he hopes he’s right in thinking that must be the exit. He knows he should be staying low, but he's pretty sure if he tries to crawl he’ll end up on his stomach, never to move again. So he tries not to breathe in any more smoke, and he keeps going. And then he's faced with another problem. He's maybe a hundred or so feet from the door, but a section of the wall he's leaning on is smoldering just ahead of him. It's not outright in flames, but it's blackened and smoking and Jack can feel the heat radiating off of it from a good few feet away. It looks like it’s maybe three feet wide, and he stares at it for a moment in despair. There's no way he can make it that far on just his own two feet, he needs the support of the wall or he’s going to hit the floor like a ragdoll. So he does what he's always yelled at for and moves without thinking. He keeps his weight on the wall, and he keeps going. When he reaches the smoldering section, he shuts his eyes and pushes forward, holding his breath as the heat burns his arm and whatever else happens to touch the wall. He knows it’s blistering, and halfway through it feels so hot it's almost cold. But he pushes on, and then he's past it and he wants to collapse from the pain and exertion but he's got less than a hundred feet till he can see his boy and there's no way he's quitting now. He stumbles the last few yards in a blind daze, practically throwing himself against the door. It gives, and he's clear, and it's so bright and the air is breathable and— 

He sees Mac, sees his blond hair, and his heart breaks all over again. Because Mac is on his knees, head hanging down, and his body is shaking with what Jack can only assume are sobs. There's somebody standing next to him with their hand on his shoulder, and Jack instinctively knows it’s not there for comfort; it’s there to keep Mac from trying to run back inside again. Jack takes all this in in just a couple seconds, but all the physical pain he felt up until now is nothing compared to the ache in his heart. He knows he's crying as he stumbles a couple steps towards Mac, trying to force his ruined throat to scream his name. One attempt must be loud enough because Mac lifts his head up just as Jack’s last surge of energy wears off, and Jack tumbles to the ground as Mac scrambles to his feet at the sight of him. 

_“Jack!”_

The sound of Mac’s wrecked voice screaming his name breaks him like a dam. Every injury Jack’s sustained comes roaring back in earnest, and he hisses as he feels Mac pull him into his lap. He looks blearily up at the kid above him, and it’s hard to see through the tears in his own eyes, but he searches Mac’s face anyway. He sees only tears and soot stains, no blood or bruises or burns, and he instantly relaxes. 

“You’re ok,” he thinks. Only he’s said it out loud, and Mac barks out a breathy laugh even though he starts crying harder. 

“Yeah, Jack. I’m ok, thanks to you. But you’re not,” he whispers, and Jack hates hearing the pain in his voice. So he does the only thing he can. He lies. 

“Nah, man. I’m okay,” he mumbles, but it’s not as effective as he would like. It sounds slurred and weak even to his own ears, and Mac looks even more scared than he had before. Jack pauses, trying to gather his breath, but it’s not working. He can feel his brain slowing down, and he knows he’s fading fast. Mac stiffens next to him, and Jack tries to catch his eyes again. There are two of him now, and the edges of his vision are quickly turning black, but he has to say one last thing. He’s dimly aware of other voices, and people trying to pull him away from Mac, but he grabs the kid’s hand as tight as he can. “I love you, Mac.” It’s broken and quiet but he means it will all his heart and he knows he needs to say it. And then he’s being put on a stretcher and Mac’s hand is yanked from his, and he closes his eyes against the pain and the sound of Mac’s voice still yelling his name and slips into darkness one more time. 

 

——————

 

The first thing he’s aware of this time, besides the pain, is an incessant beeping sound that cuts through the fog in his brain like a knife. With that thought he remembers the actual knife that sliced into his gut, and suddenly it’s as if just thinking about it makes the pain worse. He groans hoarsely, and the firm weight on his hand he hadn’t registered till just now suddenly recedes, and he opens his eyes to the still-soot-filled blond hair and tear-stained face of Angus 

“Jack! You’re awake!” Mac’s voice is still a bit rough, but Jack’s extremely grateful it doesn’t still sound like he’s been gargling gravel. Actually, that’s probably more what _he_ sounds like now. 

“Hey,” he rasps, and sweet hell that _is_ how he sounds. He swallows hard and tries again. “How long have I been out?” Mac sits up in his seat and reaches over to hit the call button, and turns his attention back to Jack. 

“About six hours. You were in surgery for two,” he answers quietly, and Jack winces. He looks like he hasn’t moved from Jack’s side since they brought him in here. He must notice Jack struggling to swallow again because he reaches over and grabs a cup on the nightstand. Mac helps him with the straw, and Jack closes his eyes in relief as the water soothes the fire in his throat. The cup is removed and put back, and he opens his eyes again to see Mac just sitting there staring with a broken look on his face. He opens his mouth to speak and then shuts it immediately, and Jack lets him take his time. While he waits, he mentally catalogues his injuries. There’s an oxygen cannula in his nose, a huge mess of gauze wrapped around his torso, and bandages up and down the whole length of his right arm. All in all, it could be worse, and he decides it’s time to say something again. 

“I look good, huh?” He means it to be lighthearted, hoping Mac will crack a smile and play along, but he gets the opposite reaction. Mac inhales sharply and stiffens in his chair, and a dark look creeps into his eyes even as they seem to glisten a bit. He does speak now, and his voice is hard and almost cold. 

“How can you even joke now?” Jack feels his heart clench, and Mac keeps going. “How can you just brush this off? Jack, you almost _died_!” He’s out of his chair now, pacing the small room and pulling at his hair, looking anywhere but at Jack. He’s almost hysterical, and his voice rises in volume as he speaks again. “You almost died and _I left you there_! I left you because you told me that you were ok! You _promised_!” His voice breaks on that last word, and all the anger and fight leaves him and he sinks into his chair with his head in his hands. Jack can’t stop the tears that come when Mac’s broken gaze comes back up to meet his. “You promised me you were ok, and I left and you _lied_ and I had to stand there and watch the flames take over with you nowhere in sight,” he whispers, and he sounds so anguished and broken and Jack wishes he could take back everything that happened. But he can’t, so he settles for taking Mac’s hand and squeezing as hard as he can. Mac squeezes back, and then he’s lurching forward to bury his face in Jack’s shoulder, and Jack brings his other hand up to rest in the kid’s hair. Mac’s no longer silently crying, now he’s sobbing and gasping and clinging to Jack like he’s about to lose him, and Jack figures he almost just did. So he lets him cry, runs his fingers through his blond hair and lets his own tears fall. 

“I’m sorry, kid,” he whispers hoarsely, and Mac stills beneath his hand. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I hated it, I really did. But I need you to know you always come first, bud. I will do anything it takes to keep you safe, you understand me? I love you, brother, and there’s no way I’m ever gonna lose you.” He stops carding his hand through Mac’s hair for a second, and the kid lifts his head and sniffs, rubbing at his eyes. It’s so unbelievably cute and endearing and _puppy-like_ that Jack can’t help but let out a rough laugh. And then he’s laughing hysterically and it _hurts_ but he can’t stop and he’s just so so glad he’s still got his kid next to him. He finally calms down, and Mac looks confused but there’s a small smile on his face and really, that’s all Jack cares about. He smiles at him, and Mac smiles back softly. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. It’s just— I thought you were dead and then you weren’t and then you coded in the chopper and they got you back but I was _so scared_ and angry at you for lying and—” Mac pauses for breath and Jack takes that moment to cut him off. 

“Mac. Don’t ever apologize for being angry at someone for lying. I know I scared the hell outta you, and I’m sorry. I never, ever want to be the one to hurt you. But believe me when I say this: you’re never gonna lose me. Not really, ok?” Jack waits until Mac nods slowly before continuing. “I mean it. I’m never gonna leave you alone if I can help it. And I’m certainly not dying until I see a bunch of Mini Macs running around with your crazy blond hair making ridiculous doohickeys, got it?” Jack levels him with a ridiculous, over exaggerated glare, and gets exactly the reaction he was looking for. Mac blushes deep red and drops his head, laughing. Satisfied, Jack scootches over as much as he can and gestures for the kid to join him. He’s hesitant at first, but finally he caves, and Jack grins happily as Mac climbs into the bed and instantly curls into his side. Jack leans his head onto Mac’s and brings his arms up to wrap around him. Mac starts to protest, gesturing at Jack’s bandages, but Jack just shushes him and Mac smiles softly and relaxes. It’s silent for a little while, and Jack is pleased to hear Mac’s breathing evening out as the kid slowly falls asleep. Jack shuts his eyes and starts to drift off too, but just before he falls asleep, he presses a ghost of a kiss into the mess of blond hair resting under his chin. 

“I love you, kid.” And then he’s gone, joining Mac in a deep, restful slumber. 

 

—————

 

When the nurse comes in to check on her patient a few minutes later, she finds them both asleep, the young son curled impossibly close to his dad’s side, the father’s arms wrapped tight around his boy, and she smiles softly as she pulls the blanket over them both. She goes about her checks as quickly as she can, trying not to wake them. She was worried about the son before, he’d looked so desperate and broken, but she isn’t now. They’ve got each other, and they’ll both be ok. So she lets them sleep, comforted by each other’s presence. Yes, she thinks, they’ll both be ok.


End file.
